Routine Questioning

"Jen," whispers the voice, one last time. "Do you want his come inside you? Can you imagine it?"

Jen bucks. Moans. Gasps, "Yes, I do, I can. Hot. Hot and wet and Tom, Tom, god. Yes. I'm full. You can make me fuller."

"With my come," Corio whispers, and grabs her tightly around the waist, nails biting, pulling her down harder onto his cock. Lifting her. Slamming her down again. They're both making noises, fucking, helpless, and he's going to give her exactly what she wants. "Better than Will. More than Will."

"Yes." Jen's nodding, eyes empty. Empty empty except for the colours. When she speaks again, her tone is almost sly. "Will made me pregnant. With his cock. Just like this."

Corio snarls, fingers biting deeper. No. He's better than Will. He looks to the voice.

"You are," it says. "So much better. Prove it. Whatever she wants, Agent Corio. If it's a baby, keep fucking her until she has it. Don't stop."

They're sliding from the chair, on the ground, still fucking like animals, and he can do it, he will do it, he's going to—

He comes. It builds and it builds until he drags her tight against him, growls against her throat, the sound tearing from deep in his chest, and pulses inside her. Pulses and pulses and there's so much, she's full, whimpering, twitching around him, and he needs to keep going. Can't stop. Don't stop.

Holds her close and doesn't slide out of her even as he softens, his come trickling around and making a mess. Their hands roam each other, mouths tasting each other's skin as they coax and reassure each other it's fine, it's okay, I love oh my god, feel it. Feel it, Tom. More. Please.

Eventually, he's hard again and they can see the tree from where they're laying. They gaze at it as he begins to sway his hips into once more. The voice is gone but they don't need it. They don't need anything. Just this. Each other. There's a knocking at the door, a splintering crunch, a call of FBI, and he closes his eyes and feels the colours as he fills her again and again...